


Strange Reactions

by respoftw



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Allergies, Asthma, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Slash, oblivious boys in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-12 00:26:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7913323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/respoftw/pseuds/respoftw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney is allergic to citrus...isn't he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strange Reactions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Brumeier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brumeier/gifts), [kobriena](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kobriena/gifts), [amycooper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amycooper/gifts).



> Can you call yourself a SGA fic writer if you haven't written a Rodney citrus allergy fic?
> 
> This was inspired by [this post](http://buffycuddlespigs.tumblr.com/post/149654236572/cerulean-beekeeper-kobriena) on my tumblr.

" _Hives_?" John said. "You're telling me that after all this time, all this whining, the only symptom of his damn citrus allergy is hives?"

John felt torn between laughing at McKay for being such a drama queen, yelling at McKay for scaring him half to death by drinking that damn juice on PX-553 in the first place and falling down on his knees in relief that Rodney wasn't going to die. McKay always did being out the strangest reactions in him.

Carson shrugged in answer to John's question. "He's not had a documented reaction since he was wee," the doctor explained. "And while that reaction was very serious, _yes - as serious as Rodney makes it out to be_ , he's managed his food intake stringently enough that it's not been an issue until now."

"So, what?" John asked. "His allergy has lessened over time?"

"It happens," Carson smiled. "We don't really know why but let's just all be grateful that it seems to have happened in Rodney's case. It'll also keep the bloody SGC happy, they're forever complaining to me about the cost of restocking the Epi-pens every six months."

"So he's gonna be fine?" John was still having a hard time believing it. He'd spent the past three years so aware of citrus and its possible effects on his scientist that it seemed a little unreal to suddenly have that weight off his chest. He couldn't even begin to imagine how Rodney must feel.

"Aye, he's good to go now in fact. I've given him some anti-histamines and the rash's already dying down. Now, if you'll excuse me, AR-5 still need checking on."

John waved him off with an assurance that he'd make sure that Rodney vacated the bed and headed to his quarters with as little fuss as possible. Pulling back the curtain, one look at Rodney's face told him that might not be as easily done as he thought.

"Before you say anything, Colonel," Rodney began, "I did _not_ make any of this up. The last time I ingested citrus I was in the hospital for four days. I might not remember it but my mother made sure to tell me about it often enough that - -"

"Rodney, Rodney," John knew that it was sometimes best to interrupt Rodney mid flow unless you wanted to be stuck listening to him rant for twenty minutes. "I believe you. Nobody is saying you made it up. We're all just glad that you're OK."

"You are?" Rodney sounded surprised which made John feel both angry and sad. Yeah, McKay really did bring out the strangest reactions in him.

Deciding to employ sarcasm - one of the few forms of communication Rodney was fluent in - John answered. "No," he said. "We were all secretly hoping that that glass of Pyua juice was finally going to get you off our hands. In fact, Chuck is gutted because he had death by juice in the pool."

Rodney rolled his eyes and scratched absentmindedly at the rapidly fading red skin on his throat. "Well you can tell everyone that they might want to rethink their bets. Looks like I just got a little bit harder to kill."

John clapped him on the shoulder. "That's the spirit," he smirked. "Now, how's about we get outta here? Elizabeth still needs her debrief."

***

The debrief was as dull as the mission had been - well, as dull as it had been before he had accepted a drink, swallowing the tart tasting liquid just milliseconds before John yelled at him to stop.

His own part of the mission was minimal and while normally he would be using this debrief to complain about the waste of resources including him on these trade renewal missions was, he was grateful for the excuse to remain silent. Some people would class that as a second miracle in one day.

Honestly, he felt more than a little ridiculous. All that fuss. God, _thirty years_ of fuss, and all for what? Some hives? No doubt the Atlantis gossip mill had already gotten hold of the story. He was probably a laughing stock across the city by now; the catering staff were likely cooking up the huge vat of lemon chicken for dinner that evening.

When the meeting finished he shook off Teyla's invitation to walk him back to his quarters and instead escaped to his lab.

The one good thing about having a reputation like his was that not many people had the balls to disturb him when he was clearly in a dark mood. He knew that the glare he had levelled the main lab with would assure him some privacy for the rest of the day - barring fire, flood or any other natural (or stupidity related) disaster. He ripped the radio out of his ear and settled in to work.

It was nice, having the uninterrupted time to work on his research. Rodney had been using science as an escape most of his life and he fell into the work easily now, only the occasional need to scratch at his neck reminding him of the day's events. Hours passed and it was only when he glanced up to see the rest of the lab in darkness that he realised how long he'd been working.

Coming back to himself after a stretch of focus like that was always disorienting and Rodney stretched, grimacing as his back cracked ominously. He rubbed absently at his chest as he looked around for a power bar and didn't even notice the slight whistle in his breath.

***

Rodney hadn't shown up in the mess hall for dinner. John was pretty sure he was just hiding after his impossibly mild allergy attack. A quick word with Zelenka confirmed that he had holed himself up in the lab, radiating a pretty serious do not disturb aura.

John sweet talked the kitchen staff into putting a plate together for him to take to the labs. He had lucked out this morning with the citrus thing, there was no way he was letting his scientist bring on a hypoglycaemic reaction this evening.

He was munching on one of Rodney's fries as he exited the transporter nearest the labs. The hair on the back of his neck prickled as he rounded the corner, a well honed sense of _wrong_ ringing through him. The heavy crash of fallen equipment came two seconds after he had dropped the plate and started running.

***

Rodney fell to his knees as his limbs weighed him down. He dimly registered a crashing sound as if something had fallen down with him but it was quiet and unimportant when compared to the need, the burning need to breathe.

He felt his panic rising as he desperately tried to pull air into his lungs. It was getting harder and harder to stay kneeling but he refused to lie down and die. Too bad nobody had told his lungs the plan.

***

"Jesus, fuck, Rodney." John flicked on his radio and yelled for a medical team as he came crashing into the labs.

Rodney was kneeling on the floor, a broken computer monitor lying behind him, struggling to breathe. John fell to his knees next to him, his hands pawing at Rodney's face, turning those wide blue eyes towards him.

"I'm here," he panted, "Carson's on his way. You just need to keep breathing, OK?."

Rodney made an attempt to nod and John hoped his attempt at a comforting smile was better. Rodney's fingers dug into John's forearms and John could feel the strength in him, the desperation to hold on. He had never been prouder of his scientist.

The horrible whistling wheeze - John knew he would be hearing that awful sound in his dreams forever - grew more pronounced and Rodney's eyes screwed closed.

"Carson!" John yelled into his radio. "Now would be good."

The door crashed open, a gurney forcing its way into the cluttered lab, and one of the nurses tried to pull him away as Carson pushed into his space.

This was all so familiar. John had seen this scenario play out in his mind a million times, most recently this morning when he had registered the taste of lemon on his lips and looked over to see Rodney putting his own cup to his lips. He'd only had six hours to feel the relief of never having to worry about this again. Six damn hours. This wasn't supposed to happen.

John felt numb as he watched Carson and his team load Rodney onto the gurney, a mask across his face. Teyla's gentle touch guided him out of the room and towards the infirmary. He hadn't even seen her arrive.

"This wasn't supposed to happen anymore," he murmured.

"I know," she soothed. "I know."

***

"He's going to be fine," Carson sighed. "It was a delayed reaction to the citrus. Very uncommon but then, that's our Rodney. He doesn't like to be normal."

"He can breathe again?" John asked.

"Aye, he's breathing much easier now. The allergy triggered what was essentially an asthma attack," Carson explained. "We put him on an albuterol mask and his airways cleared. He'll be fine."

"Can I see him?" John could tell that Carson was going to refuse but he needed to see him, needed to see the easy rise and fall of Rodney's chest. "Please."

Carson capitulated with a sigh. "Not for long, lad. He's exhausted."

John smiled in thanks and walked towards the beds for the second time today.

***

"Twice in one day. You better not make this a habit, McKay." John interrupted Rodney's attempts to gulp down the sweet, sweet oxygen like it was Kono coffee.

"Believe me, I don't plan to," he grumbled. "Although I'm sure the betting pool is beyond thrilled."

John grinned. "Oh, you don't the half of it," he said. "The number of bets on asthma related fatality has gone through the roof."

Rodney huffed, "Please, like I'm ever going to let that happen again." He shook the blue plastic inhaler Carson had issued him with. "They're wasting their money."

"I'm glad to hear it," John sounded serious now, the teasing gone. "That's not something I ever want to see again."

Rodney frowned at the sudden change of tone. Sometimes he just didn't understand John Sheppard, the man had the strangest reactions.

"Well, at least now we know that my citrus allergy is as serious as I claimed. That's the important thing."

John laughed, loud and honking. "Never change, McKay."

Rodney shook his head and changed the subject.

Definitely strange.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi! on [Tumblr](http://buffycuddlespigs.tumblr.com)


End file.
